by Guy Antibes
“If he only hadn’t told my story.”
“What about your story?”
Shiro took a deep breath. “He provoked me. In front of the whole class, he told my story. He termed me a tradesman, but we both knew whose story it was. He described how my magic came to me after I married and how I killed my family. In his version, I despaired so deeply that I took my own life. He asked, as he passed by me, if he could supply the rope to hang myself.”
Boreko blinked his eyes in astonishment. “Oh. I didn’t think his jealousy ruled him so much as to hurt you out of such sheer malice.”
“Jealousy? You said jealousy?”
His mentor took a deep breath. “The power that you possess only comes once every few generations to those born into noble families. If you were noble, you would certainly be on a path to vie for the position of Guildmaster after Yushidon retires. I am not supposed to tell you that. Roniki has designs on that position. He’ll never get it, of course. A man that ambitious attracts enemies like flies, but still, he is on the Council and you aren’t. Although the Council doesn’t hate you like Roniki does, it would never let a farmer lead them. You lack the political skills, Shiro.”
Shiro wondered about his parents. “I’ve already come to that conclusion. Perhaps my mother was noble. My parents came from Boriako.”
They both sighed. “No one would know now, Shiro,” Boreko said. “You grew up in a remote village and have no ability to prove your lineage. It doesn’t matter at this point whose blood flows through your veins, my son.”
Boreko grasped Shiro’s hand. “Another thing between us, Shiro? Don’t repeat today’s performance. It is vital that you control yourself. Roniki will think he has devastated you. Act that way. Show him that you are sorry for yourself. Show him despair. Use that as the excuse that you performed so well. That would be the kind of victory that Roniki seeks. Give it to him, all the while soaking in his instruction. Despite it all, he knows as much about magic instruction as any in the Guild. Learn it so at some later time, if the circumstances arise, you can use it against him. Of course, you didn’t hear me say that either, did you?” Boreko winked at Shiro and shoved him in the shoulder.
“I’ve been deeply disturbed that I killed my family from the moment that Mistokko inadvertently told me, but that is my fault and no one else’s. It doesn’t move me to kill myself, but I will always regret losing my wife and children. It will always tear at my heart.” Shiro found that Roniki had, indeed, re-opened up the wound that would never heal.
~
Desiku led Shiro to a far corner of the practice yard with two wooden practice swords under his arm. “I know you practiced arms with a certain seaman who knows how to augment his technique. I want to know how much he taught you.” He tossed a sword to Shiro and then assumed a fighting stance. “Show me your best.”
Shiro hadn’t handled a sword since he started weapons training. He stepped back to perform a few quick forms to loosen up. Desiku stayed in his position. He didn’t know Desiku’s technique, but he assumed it would be better than Mistokko’s. He frantically sought the memories of what the captain had told him and remembered one of the keys was to exercise restraint.
The whirlwind of attack from his opponent took Shiro by surprise, but his power gave him endurance, while he successfully fought off the onslaught. Slash, parry, slash parry, and slide to the right, dance to his left. The match took on a rhythm of it own. The focus came and Shiro’s actions both physical and magically enhanced became automatic. He made sure that he sipped power to maintain his strength and wind as the match progressed.
Shiro vaguely became aware of silence in the practice yard. He heard Tishima yell close by and, thinking the comments might be for him, he paused. Desiku took advantage of Shiro’s momentary distraction to give him a hard blow on his wrist. The sword flew to the ground and Shiro stared at Desiku, ashamed in defeat, and bowed.
With the match over, Shiro looked back at the practice yard. All of the students had gathered to watch their match. Not a word had been spoken and perhaps Tishima had reproved a student for speaking. It didn’t matter. Shiro put his defeat down as a question that he had yet to find a solution for. How did one maintain focus and still have an awareness of the surroundings? If he had fought in something other than a duel, an outside player could have killed him without Shiro’s awareness.
He bowed again to Desiku. Tishima spoke to his students. “Now you might understand why Shiro learned other weapons than the sword? He fought my assistant for more than five minutes to a draw. Of course, Desiku prevailed, but who of you would have? Take this as an example of what level of expertise you seek. Go on now, practice the focus that you saw Shiro, our farmer, display.”
Shiro looked into the eyes of his fellow students and saw a variety of expressions, awe, dismissal, and resignation. He couldn’t discern one expression of support in those faces. If he couldn’t see one friendly face, how could he function as a guild master? Boreko was absolutely right.
Desiku put his hand on Shiro’s shoulder, once the others had withdrawn.
“Mistokko taught you well. Just the right amount of power. Not many would choose to reinforce their breathing. It’s an easy spell and not detectable.”
“Not a fair fight for you,” Shiro said, trying to ignore the pain in his wrist. “I did learn—”
“What do you mean not a fair fight? I reinforced myself as you did. Strength and wind. The students would not have noticed. If any of them had the ability to fight without enhancement they would have been winded in less than a moment or two. Whoever taught you swordsmanship, did an admirable job. Now, you were saying about what you learned?”
“Tishima distracted me. I don’t know what he said, but only that his words pierced my concentration and that was the deadly pause that you used to strike my wrist.” Shiro now held his arm up. The pain made him say the last few words through his teeth. The excitement of the duel had run out and now his arm throbbed.
“Ah, you can overcome that and deal with Tishima’s little trick tomorrow, even with a bound arm,” Desiku said. “Battle strategy. You need to employ it whenever you are in danger of encountering more than one opponent.” He broke into a smile. “Go to the infirmary and have them heal that. You are done for the day.”
Shiro left the field. He glanced at Tishima, who beckoned him to join him on the raised walkway.
“Very good. You were nearly a match for Desiku today. Even I couldn’t detect your enhancements magically, but I’m experienced enough to know you both used your power. Should you ever need our assistance, at any time, be assured we are your friends, Desiku and I. Go now and see to your wrist.”
Through the pain of his injury, Shiro didn’t know if he wanted to be drafted into Tishima’s group. He had plenty of respect for all four friends, but he still had reservations about trusting any of them, with the exception of Boreko. However, no other apprentices had ever approached him with any friendly intentions at all.
He reached the infirmary and a healer examined his injury.
“Swordplay?” The healer clicked his tongue. “Master Tishima is too free with his students. Who broke your wrist? I’ll report him.”
The request took Shiro by surprise. “I’d rather not say. We were involved in an intense sparring match. I hold no grudge against my opponent.”
The healer glared and waved his hand over the wound. He looked at Shiro’s face. “Have you never been healed before?”
Shiro shook his head. “We had a woman who healed in our village, but this is the first broken bone that I have had.”
“Women!” The healer screwed up his face and returned to concentrate on Shiro’s wrist. He felt an itching of some kind deep below his skin. “The bone is now knit, but you’ll have to be careful with the injury for a week. No more swordplay!”
Shiro didn’t appreciate being treated like a child, but he didn’t want a new enemy, so he gathered his things and quickly left. The wrist throbbed, tingled a
nd itched all at the same time. He’d never had a bone treated by a healer-sorcerer. In fact, he’d never been healed for anything.
He’d not practice with weapons, as asked, but that wouldn’t stop him from seeking more counsel from Desiku or Tishima. Fighting in groups and learning to split his focus seemed to be a vital element missing from his instruction.
The next day, Shiro sought out Desiku on the practice field, but he didn’t appear. He finally approached Master Tishima. He bowed low and asked for an audience.
Tishima had him come up to the raised walkway. “Looking for Desiku?”
Shiro curtly bowed his head.
“He has been re-assigned to the Southern Isle. Guard duty. Because of you, I’m afraid.”
A frown turned down Shiro’s lips. “I didn’t tell the healer anything, even though he asked.”
“I knew you wouldn’t. One of them.” Tishima turned his head and gazed over the heads of the practicing apprentices. “Instructors aren’t supposed to break bones under any circumstances. I’m afraid Desiku was overzealous in his match. I look upon your wrist as an indication of how much of a challenge you were for him.”
Shiro grabbed his wrist. “I wanted to learn more. I need to learn how to split my focus so I’m more aware of my surroundings.”
Master Tishima grabbed the railing with both hands and laughed. “You are precocious, farmer. I’m releasing you from weapons training. You’ll just have to practice on your own.”
The news disappointed Shiro.
“Don’t take it as a demotion. It’s graduation. Desiku is one of Roppon’s best swordsmen and you fought him well. None of these,” Tishima jerked his chin towards the students, “are suitable practice partners. For splitting your focus, Boreko will do well enough. It’s not a martial art, but an enhancement to your mental powers. It is excellent that you see the need. It’s all you have left to do with me. Good luck, Shiro. I hold out my offer to you again. Should you ever require help in any way, seek out any four of us. You are dismissed. Farewell.”
Shiro bowed to Master Tishima and left in a cloud of confusion.
~
Roniki lifted up his finger to stop him from continuing to answer the question that he had asked of Shiro. “Did you have a female healing with power in your village?” Roniki said, anger darkening his face. “You are mistaken. Women have no Affinity.” His eyes went wide and he lifted his finger again. “Don’t argue with me. It is a myth that women can tap into the power in any way. She’s just talented with herbs and poultices.”
Shiro nearly sighed. At least he hadn’t brought the subject up. Roniki came into the class rather well informed. The person who treated his arm obviously told Roniki of their conversation. The healer had obviously been responsible for Desiku’s dismissal as well.
“The woman healer in Koriaki never claimed to heal with power.” But the notion of women with power was a novel thought. As he remembered the village healer’s results, he could believe she used some kind of power. He knew those who had been healed and trusted what they said.
Female sorcerers, another political issue! Roniki taught with more rigid dogma than his Political Theory professor ever did. His harangues never ended. The Guild Council must be an incredible collection of stubborn old men. Although Roniki wasn’t old, his concepts were set in ancient stone.
~
With his weapons class over, Shiro spent that time with Boreko. He wanted to begin talking about fragmenting his focus, but first he wanted to get his mentor’s opinion of women sorcerers.
“Women don’t seem to have an equal access to Affinity than men do. It’s certainly not a mental issue. I’ve known enough women with minds of steel, but it might just be part of the physical makeup of men. That’s not to say there are no female sorcerers. I personally believe that there might be thousands of them among us. As far as the Emperor and Guild are concerned, women have no place in the hierarchy of magic practitioners. It’s all nonsense, of course. The best healers I’ve ever seen were women. But they are persecuted and in some prefectures if women sorcerers are found, they can be put to death. Not many practice openly except in remote villages.”
That made sense to Shiro, but the ignoring of simple fact by the Guild didn’t. “Is it possible to change the Guild’s minds?”
Boreko shook his head. “No. The Guild would have to admit women and that would dilute their power. Don’t bring it up. Even thinking such a thing could get you reassigned. A broken bone was all it took for Desiku. Some similar gaffe is all it would take. Would you like to spend the rest of your life as a stableboy in some obscure guild house?”
Shiro contemplated Boreko’s words. “It doesn’t seem very fair to dismiss someone just for what they believe. Perhaps running a stable might be preferable to being culled.”
“You speak like a teenager, Shiro. Start thinking like an adult. We live in a structured world and if we don’t like the structure, it is we who will suffer.” Boreko said. The man shivered at his own advice.
Shiro had to smile. “A teenager, eh? I remember coming here months ago and you thought I was in my thirties.”
Boreko laughed and then turned serious. “That doesn’t dismiss the fact that you are still convinced that you can rebel against the Guild.” He rubbed his head and said, “Now let us talk about fragmented focus. It is a little-practiced talent among most sorcerers. I’ll bet there are only a handful in the Guild headquarters who know how to do it. The talent is required for survival in battle. You need to split your mind into pieces. You start doing it on your own, and then you will enhance it with your power. It is openly taught to battle sorcerers as a defensive measure when fighting other sorcerers.”
“Battling sorcerers? Does that ever happen?”
Boreko nodded. “In feudal wars between the lords. Sorcerers can attack your mind. If you fragment your focus, then only part of your consciousness will be affected. When you enhance your powers, it increases your focus on what you are doing. That was why your attention was restricted to Desiku’s actions and it took Tishima’s piercing spell to disturb you.”
“You mean Tishima did it on purpose?”
“Of course. Desiku wasn’t affected by the call and it was Tishima’s attempt, if you will, to end the fight.”
Shiro rubbed his wrist. “A painful way to stop the duel.”
“And so, Desiku paid for it with his banishment.”
Even his ‘friends’ had toyed with him. Shiro felt anger take over. “I’m not happy.”
“There is no requirement for you to be happy about it. Desiku and Tishima paid mightily for damaging your wrist. They didn’t want to be accused of favoritism. I’ve told you enough times that we do things we may not like if they have a purpose to keep hostile eyes from looking in our direction.”
Shiro’s anger transitioned to reflection, now that he knew the entire picture. His misgivings about his four mentors, Mistokko, Boreko, Tishima and Desiku, faded away. They had dragged him into their little cabal for his own protection and, like it or not, he would have to help them as they had offered to help him.
“Now here are some exercises that I want you to perform. Knowing you, fragmented focus will soon be second nature.”
Shiro went from moving his eyebrows independently of each other to being able to think in three streams of thought in a few weeks. He couldn’t do much more than channel his thoughts, but he could do it.
“Excellent, Shiro. Now we will enhance your thoughts so you can expand your mind in an instant. Let me teach you a spell to get you started. With practice you’ll be able to initiate the fragments with a thought.”
Shiro practiced all day long, thinking about one thing as he focused on another. His abilities responded to his persistent efforts.
~
Shiro approached Master Tishima and asked for a sparring match with one of his students to make sure he could focus under stress.
“You use battle sticks and I’ll have three students fight you with sword
s. I will ensure that all of you will know the consequences of breaking bones.” Tishima nodded to Shiro and said quietly, “By the way, Desiku sends his regards from Kyohama.”
Since Shiro had been pulled out of the weapons classes, he had not sparred with any other students. He looked at the practice field and realized that he didn’t see any apprentices, but sorcerers with substantial training in arms. He was sure none of them had ever observed his practices. They nearly sneered at Shiro as they went through their practice forms. Shiro observed them all and didn’t see them as challenges, but he needed this test.
Master Tishima called for the start of the match. Shiro began to fight the three. He split his mind, but a pause in his defense cost him a bruised upper arm as a slash made it past his defenses. Shiro fought back and turned around as he did so. He found that the fragmented focus did not put eyes in the back of his head.
Shiro had to make sure he didn’t strike back with any force. He could break bones as well as his attackers and that wouldn’t do.
Tishima called out again. His opponents hesitated, but the fragment that he used to focus on his fighting didn’t stop, but he processed the intent of Tishima’s call without missing a thought. He had passed the test and began to take care of his opponents.
He tapped on the sorcerers’ hands, not striking as hard as Desiku, but soon the three stood holding bruised hands with their wooden swords at their feet. Tishima called the exercise to a close.
Shiro bowed to his opponents and then to Master Tishima, who nodded, locking pleased, as he left the practice field. He fought to keep a smile off of his face, but as soon as he found himself alone on a walkway, he pumped his fists in the air.
~~~
